On the Rocks
by Cravat of Doom
Summary: Phoenix and Kristoph take a walk on the beach after Klavier's funeral.


**On the Rocks**

It was pouring, and the world was empty.

Or so you would think, unless you knew what you were looking for.

Two men dressed completely in black strode down the damp shore of the beach, each carrying an umbrella of the same colour scheme. The sky was a deep grey colour, and lightning could distantly be seen miles away.

"Strange," the first man murmured, "how the weather is able to reflect one's emotions." His face was wet despite the umbrella, and his glasses appeared to have droplets on both sides of the lenses.

"I'm sorry about his death. It was very shocking."

Kristoph turned to Phoenix and gave a smile so filled with unhappiness that it looked more like a grimace than anything.

"It wasn't necessary, either. He was so happy... Had everything going right, too. Two perfect jobs. Money, fame. He could barely go anywhere without tripping over the women that waited for hours to see him."

"Have they figured out who was responsible yet?" Phoenix was still trying to figure out the whole ordeal. He hadn't learned much at the funeral.

"No, but they're analyzing the bullet removed from his chest. The detectives believe that it was a family member of someone he helped convict."

"How horrible..." Phoenix stared out into the horizon, watching the flashes of electricity illuminate the sky.

Kristoph reached into his pocket and brought out another tissue.

"I don't remember--" his voice broke. "I don't remember the last time I said I loved him."

Closing his eyes, he removed his glasses and rested his face in his left hand.

"And the last thing he said to me... Was that he hated me."

"Why would he say that?"

It took awhile for Kristoph to begin speaking again. When he did, it was a bit hard to understand.

"He said that I had changed... I was acting differently than normal. He told me that I was more withdrawn than ever, and I was too wrapped up in my work to pay attention to him."

"And was this true?"

"I...I don't know. It must ring of some truth if he said it, no? I told him he was being foolish."

"Isn't that a little harsh then, for him to say that he hated you?" Phoenix asked, skeptical.

Kristoph stopped walking.

"It might have been possible that I also said that his music was a waste of time."

"That was...stupid."

"Thanks, Wright."

Phoenix turned to Kristoph, and was slightly taken aback at the sight of his face. It was to be expected, he supposed, but it was still surprising to see his puffy red eyes.

"But you don't think it was a waste of time, do you?"

"Not particularly, no. We were fighting about something, and I suppose I just lost it. But Klavier took it to heart."

"I want to know, though, Kristoph. Do you honestly believe you're still the same? That you haven't changed?"

The defense attorney narrowed his eyes.

"What are you implying...?"

Phoenix took a deep breath. It was now or never. Granted, now wasn't a great time, but Kristoph's guard was down, and such a thing was not a common situation.

"I think that perhaps..."

"Yes? What is it?"

Phoenix almost couldn't say it. He felt like such a jerk for taking advantage of this situation, and fresh tears were already running down Kristoph's cheeks.

"I kind of want to believe that it isn't true, but I'm almost positive it is."

"Just spit it out!"

"It was you. Seven years ago, you were the one who forged the evidence in the Misham trial. You then made sure it was put in my possession."

Kristoph didn't respond right away. He looked out of it. His face was blank for a few minutes.

"Kristoph?"

Nothing.

"Hello? Gavin?" he waved his hand in front of said man's face.

The blonde looked up.

"You think so, do you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Well," Phoenix began, "I've talked to people. Gathered evidence. The usual. One person in particular was very useful in finding information. Vera Misham. I know you know who I'm talking about."

"She is the daughter of that forger, correct?" Kristoph didn't try to deny his knowledge of her.

"Yep. When I spoke to her, she mentioned the client who asked for the diary page. Said that their face was covered, but when they gave her some nail polish," --he stopped and gave Kristoph a look-- "she saw 'the Devil'. Took me awhile to figure it out, but I eventually realized what she meant."

"Really? And what was that? You aren't seriously calling me a devil, are you?"

"Not exactly."

Phoenix reached down and grabbed Kristoph's right hand. He bent back the fingers and moved it in such a way that two odd indents appeared on the back of it, over a horizontal scar.

"See it?"

"Yes, Wright. I see it. But it doesn't matter. What is the point of all this? You can't do anything about any of this. You're not a lawyer anymore." He still wasn't denying anything, which puzzled Phoenix. He expected a huge dramatic protest.

"I can do enough."

Kristoph sighed and sat himself down on a rock. The way he was positioned vaguely reminded Phoenix of 'The Thinker', which bothered him slightly. So instead he looked out at the water.

This meant he didn't see Kristoph put something small and round into his mouth.

"What if your speculations turned out to be false?" asked the attorney.

Phoenix sat down beside Kristoph.

"Then I'd be back to square one. But I'm sure it was you. It wouldn't make sense if it wasn't."

Silence. It was awhile before the other man spoke again.

"I always figured you'd piece it together eventually. I just didn't think you'd take this long."

"...Oh." Phoenix wasn't really sure how to respond to that one. Technically, he had always known, so it didn't take him very long. But he kept that thought to himself.

It started to rain even harder. It was coming down so fast that Phoenix could barely hear Kristoph anymore, whose hair looked much longer wet than it normally did.

"Why do we keep up this charade?" Phoenix asked through the storm."If we both know the truth, what's the point?"

Kristoph smirked.

"Because we want to. Or at least, we did." he added ominously.

"Huh?"

Without warning, Kristoph leaned over and planted his mouth on Phoenix's, who was so completely surprised that he nearly fell backward. He dropped his umbrella, which was carried away into the wind.

Phoenix noticed a strong taste of plastic, which slightly confused him. He didn't think much of it, though, and instead reached for Kristoph's hand to hold. He found it when Kristoph pulled away, shaking.

They sat there in silence for a little while, listening to the rain. Phoenix was considering asking what that was about, but Kristoph spoke before he could.

"I can't do it," he whispered, looking visibly upset.

"Do what?"

"I had been hoping you would accidentally bite it, but I couldn't..." he trailed off.

"What are you talking about?"

Kristoph reached up and removed a brown capsule from his mouth. He dropped it onto the rock and crushed it with the sole of his foot. Handing Phoenix his umbrella, he stood up and briskly walked back in the direction they had come from.

Phoenix looked down at the remnants of the pill, heart pounding. Cyanide.

Kristoph had almost murdered him.

No wonder Klavier had said he'd changed. The only question was how.


End file.
